Middle of Somewhere
by AIs4Awsome
Summary: insired by hush hush but different characters. twenty year old cassie brett just lost her cheer leading scholarship after a back injury and is forced to return to her tiny hometown after being gone for nearly two years. she meets a guy and strange things start happening...please reaad


**Thanks for reading :) please review because if i dont get x amount of reviews I'm probably not going to contiue something that isnt being read...thank ya**

Nobody was dancing, which was a given. Put a bunch of wealthy suburban BMW driving, wearing post-high school pre –university graduates in a country western bar and that's what's going to happen. Okay, that was a lie. The cougars were dancing; women in their forties sporting too-short skirts, hair color of the box type variety and wearing way too much makeup. Normally I'd think it was hilarious except for the annoying fact that I'm completely stone cold sober right now. My doctor back at UCLA told me mixing prescription painkillers with alcohol was a major no no. Yet another casualty in the domino effect that was my irreversible back injury. First, lossage of cheer leader scholarship. Second, zero alcohol.

The Mustang-o Saloon, Bar and Grill was (and still is) the only country western bar ever to grace our little white bread town of Jefferson, the middle-of-nowhere PA. It was also the only place that stayed open past 10, had a dance floor and resembled anything like a club. Everyone was just waiting for the DJ to get the hint that there was no way in hell anyone under the age of 30 was going to start dancing anytime soon unless he played something that didn't have a slide guitar or some southern type twang in it.

In all honesty, I'm a little too busy to notice or care all that much considering I'm currently preoccupied with comforting –and trying to sober up - Kristen. First off, before we get a little too ahead of ourselves here, I'd just like to say in my defense, I thought he was gay. I'm sorry, but if you're a guy you do not show up to a bar sporting a too-deep v-neck shirt with sparkles on it. Unless of course, you are in fact gay. So when I told my very broke - and very drunk - friend Kristen to ask him to buy her a drink I didn't really think he would take that as a come on. Once again, he was wearing a V-NECK. With SPARKLES. If that doesn't scream gay I don't know what does.

"Why did I let him kiss me? WHY?" Kristen is sobbing uncontrollably into my shoulder, "Seb is going to kill me."

She's draped her tiny five foot frame across the booth situated in the far corner of the crowded bar. She's got her face pressed into my shoulder and I can barely hear her over the music's bone jarring bass. Figures the DJ would begin to play some loud club-type music now.

"He wasn't supposed to kiss me! He was just supposed to buy me drinks…"

I am this close to slapping Kristen right across the face and yelling at her to "Pull yourself together, woman!" but I don't go because she is officially too far gone to have her face slapped without either puking or falling over. So instead I say, "Uh huh," while awkwardly patting her shoulder in a subpar attempt to comfort her.

"Seb is going to dump me!" she continues to sob, tears and inky mascara streaking down her cheeks before dripping off her chin and dotting my skirt. "I mean, I've never ever cheated before…like…ever…and now he's going to dump me and right before Christmas and…"

I risk a quick peek at my watch. 1:24am. Normally I'd never have agreed to go out with Kristen and Steph to the Mustang-o on a Wednesday night – the only night of the week bouncers let people ride Jed the mechanical bull. But this was my first night back in Jefferson, the-middle-of-nowhere PA in nearly a year so a much needed night out with my old high school friends was kind of a given. Not that I'd really deserved one. Losing your cheerleading scholarship due to a back injury doesn't exactly scream "Let's celebrate and get completely dickered!" in my books. The complete opposite in fact. If I'd had it my way, I'd be in bed right now banned to my own social Siberia for all of eternity and beyond.

"I'm never gonna have another boyfriend ever again! I'll be like that old lady on Dawson Road with the cats..."

"Don't be dumb," I say, my eyes practically rolling on their own., "Seb is not going to dump you because of one little kiss with a guy who you clearly thought was gay."

But Kristen doesn't listen. Instead she just starts sobbing even louder and begins miserably to bang her forehead against the oak table in front of her.

Okay then.

I glance desperately around the packed bar, deciding that now might be a good time to start heading home. But first we have to deal finding Steph. Roughly ten minutes ago some guy who looked suspciously like a much younger Ryan Reynolds asked if he could buy her a drink. Only God knows where she got to in the space of that ten minutes.

"Okay, Kris, I'm just gonna find Steph and I'll be right back. Don't move." I shout over the music before carefully nudging her off of me and bouncing to my feet. . Okay, operation find Steph time.


End file.
